Ode To a Blockhead
Just scrap metal in your bellow?
Is your pedal, mellowed old?
Poor old friend, you've lost your wheels
You dream in color, of rubber burning,...
where coughed exhaust, was left behind.
Now we're lost, two junk yard pals
Relics, that have rusted time.
Just a pile of dented fenders,
suspended… here, in desert sand.
Jammed and stacked, we'll make a pact
perhaps the two of us can make a dime.
A part of you, a part of me.....perhaps they'll make some artsy thing
Snap, crackle, hot and Popular Mechanic,
They should come and fix us up
Woe is you! You junk yard dog,
something smolders in your trunk!
Smells of socks, perhaps a skunk?
Once so dandy, someone's bug
Not so handy, you can't move.
How many horses, under that hood...?
I would push you if I could !
Scratch my back and I'll scratch yours
I'd paint you blue, and paint you bright,
If I could, to set you right
New transmission, lubed and oiled
Anti freeze to make you sneeze
Honest Engine, we'll get our kicks,
I'll fix you up, and grab the stick
Headin' down Route 66........
Get off me blockhead......we are fixed !
_____________________________________________________
12/10/14 For The "East Jesus" contest: Image number 5
Sponsored by Roy Jergen
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